


Believe In Me & We

by ghostboi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom Dean, First Time, Japanese Rope Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Light Praise Kink, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Sub Sam, Tied-Up Sam, Top Dean, Underage - Freeform, love me some rope bondage, pressure points
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboi/pseuds/ghostboi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Pay attention, Sam,” he instructed, “What type of rope work am I doing?"<br/>Dean tries a bit of Shibari, rope bondage, on his little brother. Ends up that Sammy likes it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Believe In Me & We

**Author's Note:**

> Vacation = more writing time.  
> Shibari = *swoony sigh* ahem.

The thing about small towns and being stuck in whichever shack-of-the-week they were stuck in, while their father was away on a hunt, was that there was never anything good on television.

It was their third day in this Podunk town, and Dean was bored already. He supposed he could walk to ‘town’ – four miles from their shack’s location – but it was too damn hot for it.

Dean brushed a strand of hair away from his sticky forehead. Of course the only air conditioning was a rickety old unit stuck in the living room window, and it looked like it was about to fall apart any second. They had turned on two fans, which they had discovered in a bedroom closet the day after their day dropped them off, but it wasn’t doing very much to abate the heat.

He thought about stripping off his worn jeans and t-shirt, down to his boxers, but decided it was too much effort at the moment.

Dean’s gaze shifted from the old television, to his little brother, as Sam entered the room. He watched from the corner of his eye as the kid moved across the living room, wearing only a pair of basketball shorts.

“It’s too hoooot,” Sam sulked as he threw himself down on the far end of the couch, shoving Dean’s stretched out legs out of his way.

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Dean placed his legs in his little brother’s lap with a smirk, “Whining won’t change it.” 

The fourteen-year-old tried to shove his legs away, throwing him a glare, but gave it up after a moment. “Get off,” the boy muttered, “Too hot.” Instead of complying, he crossed his legs at the ankle, making himself more comfortable. His brother shot him another glare before slouching against the couch arm, his attention shifting to the program on the television about ancient Egyptians and aliens.

Dean eyed his kid brother from his end of the couch. He tilted his head as he studied the sulking boy’s build; Sam was getting taller, still thin but just beginning to fill out a little. His hair was a shaggy mess, sticking to his forehead from the heat and hanging long over his ears and the back of his neck. Dean’s eyes flicked to his face, shifted down to his mouth. A slow smile curved his own mouth as he stared at the other’s lips, curved in what was practically a pout.

Sam shifted on the couch, making another weak attempt to dislodge Dean’s legs from his lap but giving up after a moment. He laid his head back against the couch, exposing his throat; Dean saw a drop of sweat trickle from the teen’s hairline, down his neck.

Sam turned hazel eyes in his direction as he shifted suddenly, pulling his legs off the other and putting his feet on the floor. “C’mon, Sammy,” he instructed as he stood and stretched.

“Where are we going?”

“Time for a little training,” he supplied the answer.

“You’re fucking kidding me?” Sam huffed an annoyed breath, dropping his head back on the couch again, “It’s like 95 degrees, Dean. Too hot for training!”

“You can spend half an hour training now,” he crossed the space between them to stand before the younger teen, “or three hours training tomorrow, when it’s supposed to hit 100 out.” 

“Ugh,” Sam sighed dramatically and shoved himself to his feet, “I hate you.” Dean reached out and patted his cheek – Sam pulled away, making a face – and led the way into the bedroom. Sam raised a brow as he snagged a kitchen chair on the way, but remained silent.

Once they were in the back bedroom, Dean placed the chair in the room’s center.  
“Sit,” he instructed his brother. Sam raised that brow again, but complied and seated himself in the chair. 

“What kind of training are we doing in here?”  
Hazel eyes watched him as he moved to the closet and pulled it open. He pulled a duffel bag from it and crossed the room to toss it on the bed, before opening it.

“Escape techniques,” he answered finally, searching through the bag. After a moment, he found what he wanted – several lengths of paracord – and pulled them from the duffel. He turned to face his little brother, and found Sam watching him.

“Escape techniques?” the boy repeated, eyes flicking to the coiled length of rope in his hand, “You mean you’re going to tie me up and see if I can get away.”

“Nailed it in one, Sam.”

“I hate this game,” the younger teen grumbled, “You always bitch if I don’t do it fast enough.”

“Then do it faster,” he shot back with a smirk, moving to stand behind the chair. He responded to the glare tossed over Sam’s shoulder with a pleasant smile of his own. “Hands behind your back.” 

“Make me,” the other muttered, defiance tracing his voice.

Dean was motionless for only a moment as he stared at the back of his brother’s head. The challenge in the younger teen’s voice sent a spike of heat through him, and his dick twitched in his jeans. A moment later, he was tangling his fingers in Sam’s longer locks, jerking his head back just hard enough to catch fully the other’s attention.

His breath ghosted in brother’s ear as he leaned in close to growl, “Hands behind your back, Sam.” He didn’t miss the shiver which ran through the other boy, or the way Sam’s eyes widened the slightest bit when the other glanced over at him. After a moment, his brother obeyed and put his hands behind his back, behind the chair’s midrail. 

His murmur of “Good boy,” had Sam shivering again, something Dean didn’t miss.

Dean looped the rope around Sam’s left wrist, securing a knot that was tight but not tight enough to bite into the other’s skin. He tested the hold before drawing the boy’s hands together and looping the cord around the right wrist. Once that was done, he proceeded to draw the ropes up around Sam’s arms and around the back stiles of the chair; a series of knots secured the ropes – and the bound limbs – in place. Dean was careful in the placement of the knots, making certain each one fell against a pressure point.

“What type of rope work am I doing?” he quizzed the younger teen as he moved to kneel in front of Sam, drawing the ropes around his brother’s sides and chest.

“How am I supposed to get out of all these?” his brother grumbled in response, glancing down at the knot Dean was currently tying. Their eyes met as Dean raised his green gaze; the older teen reached out and tapped his palm against the other’s cheek, simulating a slap. 

“Pay attention, Sam,” he instructed, “What type of rope work am I doing?” 

Sam fell silent, eyes falling to the ropes Dean was knotting at intervals across his sides and chest. “Um.. Shibari?” he finally answered, the end of the word raised as if asking more than informing. 

“That’s right,” Dean began a second row of knots, these lying across his brother’s slim stomach, “What’s Shibari?” 

“It –“ Sam hesitated a moment, shifting beneath Dean’s hands. Dean raised his eyes, saw the movement of his brother’s throat as Sam swallowed. “It’s Japanese rope work,” the younger teen finally answered, eyes falling to Dean’s hands again, “It’s also called – called Kinbaku, and it’s used for typing up prisoners. And sometimes as a, um, a type of art.”

“Good,” Dean murmured, finishing the knots he was tying, “Smart boy.”  
He picked up the second length of rope and started on Sam’s legs, tying them to the legs of the chair with intricate knots, again placed primarily against pressure points. 

“I didn’t – “ Sam swallowed again, watching as Dean worked, “ – didn’t know you had learned how to do this.” 

Dean didn’t miss the breathless quality of his little brother’s words, and he smiled, raising his eyes to his kid brother. “Internet,” he answered with a smirk, “There are tutorials on Youtube.”

When he had tied the last knot, Dean stood and stepped back from his brother. He bit his lip as he studied the younger teen; Sam was a sight, bound to the chair with the ropes crossing his torso, knots pressing into his bare skin and turning the flesh around them slightly red. His little brother’s cheeks were slightly flushed but, in spite of being bound to a chair as he was, he looked relaxed, pliant. The knots against his skin, pressing against the boy’s pressure points, were akin to acupressure.

Dean met the other’s hazel gaze; his eyes dropped downward as Sam shifted in his chair, falling on his little brother’s groin. He smirked, eyes rising to Sam’s again, as he saw the way the other’s shorts were tenting slightly; his brother was half-hard. Sam saw him look, realized that he had noticed, and an embarrassed flush touched the other’s cheeks. 

“Go ahead,” he instructed, “Try to get out of them.”

Sam hesitated for a moment before he nodded and began working his hands and wrists against the ropes, attempting to find some give in them. He strained forward against those around his torso in the process; within minutes, he was panting slightly, a flush painting his chest and throat and face. 

Dean watched as his brother worked at the ropes binding him, his eyes drinking in the sight. He caught his bottom lip beneath his teeth, biting it, as he saw the flush creeping up his brother’s skin, and the way the younger teen’s erection grew inside his ball shorts. His own dick was half-hard as he watched his brother; it twitched in obvious interest when a low, soft moan escaped suddenly from Sam’s parted lips.

“Giving up already?” he teased his brother as the other went still, head slightly bowed. Sam shook his head no, only to nod an affirmation. A second later, he shook his head no again. Dean chuckled – a shiver coursed through Sam as he did – and he adjusted himself in his worn jeans.

Sam’s eyes locked on his hand as he briefly groped himself, before rising to his face. His little brother’s pupils were blown, the black almost swallowing completely the hazel. He tilted his head, studying the boy, and licked his lips. Sam’s eyes followed the movement, and the younger teen moaned, voice barely audible,  
“Dean..”

Dean stepped closer to his little brother, positioning himself between the other’s parted thighs.  
“Yeah, Sammy?”  
He raised his fingers and brushed them through the boy’s hair, nails lightly scratching at the scalp, and Sam arched forward, against the ropes typing him.

Dean watched, the slightest of smiles touching his mouth, as his brother pressed against the ropes, lips parted as he panted. He stepped closer, crowding into the boy’s space; his eyes slipped shut as Sam whined and leaned in to press his mouth against Dean’s stomach.

Dean was motionless for a moment, allowing his brother to lick and suck at his skin, before pulling back. The younger teen whimpered and tried to press forward again; he took Dean’s fingers in his mouth as Dean pressed them against his lips, and began to suck on them.

Dean allowed Sam to suck on his fingers for a minute, heat pooling low in his stomach at the feel of his brother’s mouth. He pulled his fingers free with a soft, wet pop, reaching down with his other hand to squeeze his aching, fully hard dick. “What is it, Sammy?” he murmured as he undid the snap of his jeans and pushed down the zipper, “What do you want?”

“Please,” Sam raised pleading eyes to his face, “Please Dean, touch me?”

“Touch you?” Dean repeated, going to one knee in front of the other boy. He reached out and pressed at the knot which was lying across Sam’s right nipple, pushing it harder into his skin. The boy’s hips jerked and his head feel back, revealing his throat, as he gasped softly. “Touch you how, baby boy?” He pressed against the knotted rope again, drawing another low sound of need from the other; a moment later, his lips were pressed against Sam’s throat. 

When his fingers brushed over the boy’s hips as he licked and sucked lightly at Sam’s throat, the younger teen thrust forward, seeking his touch. Dean was all too happy to oblige, his own cock straining against the seam of his jeans. He brushed a fingertip down the boy’s hard-on as he sucked a spot on the other’s neck, and Sam jerked hard and moaned his name. 

The older teen muttered a breathless curse and slipped his fingers beneath Sam’s waistband. His eyes flicked to Sam’s face, the look in them almost predatory, as he realized the other wasn’t wearing underwear beneath his shorts. He brushed his palm over the hard shaft beneath it, then up to brush a thumb over the head of Sam’s dick.

“Dean, please, please,” his kid brother thrust up against his exploring fingers, “Don’t stop.” 

The soft plea, the breathless words as Dean nipped at the spot where jaw met ear, was enough to send him to both knees. He pressed forward, against his little brother, and sucked and licked at his neck and he wrapped strong fingers around Sam’s cock. 

Sam gasped in pleasure, fucking up into Dean’s fist, his pre-come slicking the older teen’s palm. Dean growled, low in his throat, and pulled back to tug down the ball shorts with his free hand. Sam cried out, tremors running through him, as he leaned in suddenly to swallow down the boy’s leaking shaft, sucking lightly at the head.

Dean stroked him several times, pressing the tip of his tongue into Sam’s slit and using his other hand to press the knotted ropes against the boy’s stomach. He growled in approval as Sam’s hips jerked and his kid brother began to cum with a low cry of his name. 

Dean had to jerk his hand off Sam’s cock and reach down to grip his own dick hard, to keep from shooting his own load, as Sam’s cum coated his tongue and filled his mouth. He swallowed down the hot fluid, tongue tracing the length of the other as he sought more.

When Dean pulled off and drew back to look at Sam, he had to grip his dick again. His brother was even more gorgeous like this: breathing hard from his orgasm, face and body flushed, eyes glazed and mouth parted.

He stood and pulled his aching dick from his jeans and boxers, wrapping his hand around it. He gripped hard, just this side of too painful, as he began to stroke it. He watched, dick twitching, as his brother’s eyes locked on his hand.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was breathless still as he pressed forward against the ropes binding him to the chair, “Dean, I wanna taste you.”

“Yeah?” the young man bit his bottom lip, eyes half-closed in pleasure as he stared down at his little brother, “You sure about that, Sammy?”

Sam nodded, hazel eyes meeting his own green gaze. He groaned, low and hungry, as the boy licked his lips and whispered, “Please, big brother.”

Dean stepped between the boy’s parted thighs again, watching as Sam leaned toward him. The soft moan as the ropes and their knots pressed into the younger teen’s flesh caused his dick to twitch again. He shifted slightly closer; a low curse escaped his mouth, hard tremor running through his entire body, as Sam’s mouth brushed his dick. His eyes slipped close as Sam traced his tongue around the head, almost tentatively; it was hesitant and uncertain, and Dean loved the feel of it.

“Good, Sammy,” his praised, voice low and rough with lust, “That’s real good.”

Sam grew bolder at his praise and swiped his tongue over the head, licking up the pre-come dripping from it. When he raised his head and whispered, “Taste good, Dean,” Dean almost lost what little control he had left. He thrust forward, pressing his dick between wet, parted lips, but reigned in his need to drive deeper with an iron will. Instead he went still, panting for breath and tangling his fingers in Sam’s hair.

Sam’s mouth closed over him, tongue rolling down his length, learning it, as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, and Dean knew he was a fucking goner. He gripped his kid brother’s hair harder, thrusting up into that hot, wet mouth. Sam gagged slightly, pulled back to catch a breath, then swallowed him down again.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean breathed hard, trying his damnedest to keep his thrusts shallow so he didn’t choke his baby brother, “Fuck!” When the other moaned around his shaft, he was gone. He began to cum with his little brother’s name on his lips, one hand in his hair and the other dropping to Sam’s shoulder to support himself. Sam swallowed twice, choked slightly, before Dean jerked out of his mouth to finish shooting on his face and chest.

Sam was trying to lick him clean when he regained his breath and his senses; cum was streaking the boy’s face and smeared across his mouth. Dean pulled free and, with a low growl, leaned in to claim the other’s mouth in a long, thorough kiss. 

When they parted finally, gasping for air, Dean tugged his shirt over his head and used it to wipe his little brother’s face and chest clean. “Okay?” he whispered, eyes searching the other’s face for signs that Sam wasn’t, or that the younger teen was angry. He _had_ just tied the kid up and shoved his dick in his mouth..

“Mm,” Sam leaned forward slightly and rubbed the side of his face against Dean’s bare stomach, “’m awesome. That was awesome. Holy shit.”

Dean chuckled and brushed his fingers through the other’s damp hair, then leaned in to press a kiss against his temple. “Let’s get you out of these ropes,” he murmured, stroking his fingers down Sam’s cheek.

“Only if you promise to put them on me again later,” Sam looked up at him and shot him a sated smile, “and then fuck me when you’re done.”

Dean swallowed hard, dick twitching again and heart slamming into his ribs. This kid – damn, this kid. He could get lost in this kid, in every way possible.

He caught Sam’s jaw in strong fingers and raised the boy’s head to drop a kiss against his mouth. He pulled away after a long minute, leaving Sam panting for air again, and smiled down at his little brother.

“I promise, Sammy.”

**Author's Note:**

> One of my fave of the shorter articles on Shibari: http://www.hikarikesho.com/eng/shibari.php


End file.
